


Life's greatest illusion

by kairi196



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2020-09-26 15:17:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20391826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kairi196/pseuds/kairi196
Summary: Even in her mid 20's, Caroline is an expert at being nerdy and socially awkward, until one day, a certain daedric prince of madness offers to fulfill her dream of a magical adventure, dragging her into the tv screen, and into the Elder Scrolls V universe. Will she use the lore she knows and easily become dovahkiin, or is there way more going on in this not-so-fictional world than meets the eye?





	1. Prologue

It's been a week since those traitors murdered me in cold blood.

And by murdered, I mean they emotionally murdered my Dungeons and Dragons character, by turning my half elf sorcerer into a dark elf, when her sole dream was to become a high elf to be accepted into her community!

Well, the Dungeon Master is to blame for that, but the rest of the party took their time to tell me how stupid it was of me to make a deal with that magic creature and how much they "despised" my character, and point out, not the flaws in my portrayal or character development, but HERS as a PERSON. Even though I told them she was based on me.

And with that, they murdered our friendship.

Not that it was a solid friendship anyway. In these 8 months I've known them, I grew tired of begging them to also do other "friend-stuff" with me, like going to Six Flags, movie theater, karaoke, costume party, escape rooms, videogame bar, etc. The game is great, don't get me wrong, but I finally had a group of friends to do things I had always wanted to do. But they never had the money or time, even with months of anticipation, except for, you know, things like traveling to cOMIC CON.

It was my first time playing Dnd, I didn't care that Calineth, my half elf, had a slightly cliché and dramatic backstory, and they said it was perfectly fine. To be honest, I just wanted to make a therapeutic experiment, by symbollically representing in her the aspects of my mind I don't dare to confess out loud. The ones I usually pretend they don't exist on they outside (a.k.a. emotional unstability, depressive symptoms and trust issues). It would either (hopefully) prove me wrong in my idea that nobody can like me if I show myself the way I am, judging by the player's and characters' reactions to Calineth (don't get me wrong, I also gave her good qualities, not just my bad side). OR, she would find nurturing friendships, overcome her trust issues in her adventures, and get a happy ending. And just maybe, all of that would somehow have an impact on a very real Caroline, A.K.A., me. It's a fantasy game, after all, right? I've read it's even used in some therapeutic modalities.

Please, don't mock me for trying such a stupid idea, like I said, it was my first time playing. Not that I'm smart, anyway. Not socially and not in the traditional sense.

That aside, that is the story of how I call them traitors, now.

Who am I kidding? They were great. I blew it.

Now I'm all bitter in front of my computer, trying to write a fanfic that gives my character a happy ending that no one will read, just for my own sake. And failing miserably at it.

_I'm sorry, Cal. _Letting out a sigh, I shut my laptop, before stretching my arms and letting my head fall back. My brain's dry. Two hours and a half is enough.

But there is one thing that never lets me down on a lazy Sunday.

And that is Skyrim.

I've been obsessed with this game for over a year. And my character's basically Calineth, LOL. I didn't copy her, though, I knew Skyrim before DnD. My character's a Breton (half elf equivalent), but I made her more of a warrior, even though magic's my favorite thing in the world.

"If only this was real..." I stare longingly at my tv screen. _The world, the creatures the characters, the magic, the story..._

"Oh, but it already is."

A cheerful, raspy voice with an Irish accent, replied.

I kept it together. But that was before my blood turned to ice, as I recognized the man speaking to me in my tv.

"What's with the face, mortal? I'm very real. If I weren't, how could I have been watching you these days? Forgive me, but you're so booooooring". Sheogorath yawned. Only then I remembered I completed his quest for the second time last week. My favorite one, by the way. because, you know, trauma healing involved.

"No." I manage to whisper in a flat tone. "You can't be real."

"But I am! And I'm here to grant you your wish! No catch involved."

"W-wish?"

"Aye. Living in a magic world and all those unoriginal commoner wishes. You've treated Pelagius' mind two times, which is absolutely no extraordinary feat! Congratulations!" His voice booms in my room, as the Wabbajack materializes in his hand.

"This isn't right. Why me?"

The tv turns off.

My chest heaves up and down. I don't feel well. Have I been playing videogames too much?

"Ohohohoho!" The tv turns back on, Sheogorath's nostrils all over the screen, making me fall back on my chair. "Mortal, my dear, I'm in such a good mood. He steps back to wink at me, before clearing his throat. "Why you? Because it should be you, except for when it shouldn't be. So what do you say? Or will you make me hear you talk your mother's ear off again, about _Sheogorath's quest _and_ being compassionate because your experiences shape you into what you are, wondering what your own mind would look like,_ while you eat a quesadilla with a lot, a lot, a lot of **CHeESe??**"

I still my face before it distorts in horror. How long has he been watching me? "Sheogorath... That was a year ago. W-why are you talking to me **now**?"

"For an immortal, time exists even if it doesn't! Or was it the other way around? Never mind! Which is why I will return the favor you did Pelagius. You will go through the same treatment he did. Well, sort of. Did you not say you wish you could do the same for yourself? It can all be changed. Loneliness, deep sadness..."

"You can... make me love myself again?"

"That depends on the Wabbajack and on whatever it depends on. But, of course. I can assure repair and new experiences that shape you will have place."

A tingling runs down my spine. My body shines, similar to Edward in Twilight. I notice I gradually become more transparent. I haven't agreed to this yet, but my lips don't know how to speak.

"lleh eht tahW"

"Mortal." Sheogorath grins, books and clothes starting to fly all over my room. Windows rumble and the tv glows, not as much as the Wabbajack. "Welcome to...

...Skyrim."

That was all I heard among the deafening wind, before a strange light hit my head.


	2. And so it begins

“Brynjolf, please. Hafjorg and Elgrim are always quick to pay their debts, you know that. It’s not been a good month for Elgrim’s Elixirs, business has been slow in Riften, as I’m sure you’ve noticed in your, uh… _line of work_. Give us one more week, that’s all I’m asking, we’ve never let you down before.” 

Looking quite uncomfortable, Brynjolf scratches the back of his head, averting my gaze. Always a bad sign. “Don’t get me wrong, lass. I like ye. But you know this isn’t personal, I represent an organization. Like you said, business is business. I’ll try talking Maven into giving you two more days, but you’re smarter than that.” Letting a laugh, he shrugs nonchalantly and all I feel my hands ball into fists. As furious as I am, I’m not stupid enough to let it show. “Mercer won’t be too happy with me for that, but I’ll try for ye.” He places a hand on my shoulder. “Take care, lass, will you?”

“I will.” I whisper, glaring daggers at him, hoping he removes his hand soon or perhaps I won’t be able to control myself. Oblivious to my inner world, the corner of his lip curls upwards in slight amusement, before he walks away.

It takes every ounce of my will not to slam the door shut. Pressing my back against it, once more, I’m convinced of one thing and one thing only.

This city is rotten to the core.

I’ve been here 17 years. It was exactly like Sheogorath said. My childhood was reconstructed, as I appeared in Riften as a 7 year old orphan Breton, with my 25 year old mentality intact, yet with no other option left than to grow up again. Dinya from the temple of Mara took me in when I turned 13, and I spent the next years cleaning the temple and spreading the goddess’ word, before I got a job at Elgrim’s Elixirs five years ago. I’m finally my actual age, yaaaay, yeeepeeee!

** _NOT_ **

But guess what? My daedric friend, who hasn’t spoken to me again, no matter how many rituals I perform, forgot to mention one little thing.

When am I supposed to become Dragonborn?

Guess who’s tried multiple times running away to the border to see _‘if I got caught?’ _Nope. No Alduin. No waking up in a carriage. There’s always something that keeps me near Riften. How old was the Dragonborn in the actual game? And guess who has little to no skills at all, compared to the amazing character I once built? I grew up with freaking Grelod the Kind, and watched her turn into this extremely abusive woman I hope will die soon, so where the heck was I supposed to learn to fend for myself?!?! I’m not my character!

There’s only four people that have taught me a couple of useful things. Dinya with her restoration magic. Falion, a Redguard exmember of the College of Winterhold, who teaches me a couple of conjuration tricks, in exchange of free potions whenever he travels to Riften. Elgrim, my boss, a little bit of Alchemy. I’m not that good, to be honest. And, of course, my best friend, Neydan. A wood elf, that wasn’t in the vanilla game. I wonder if he’s part of a mod or something. He’s an independent thief and hunter. Excellent archer to say the least, with Illusion magic knowledge. Brynjolf and Mercer keep asking him to join the Thieves Guild, but he keeps refusing. A free spirit, that guy.

If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t know how to use a bow and the basics of Illusion magic. He says he won’t teach me anything else so that won’t be doing any dangerous work. Yet when it comes to him, he’s a crazy, sneaky goofball. He’d make a way better Dragonborn than me. When I used to play the videogame, I didn’t care for stealing or killing, it was just a game, but now, experiencing it as REAL LIFE is a whole different story!

The reason I’m friends with a thief in _“real life”_, is because Neydan’s different than all those dishonest dudes. He’s a little like Robin Hood, stealing from corrupt rich people, and donating to the poor. He’s even paid Elgrim’s Elixirs debt to the Guild before, without me asking, I must add.

“Calineth, dear, was that Brynjolf?” Hafjorg lowers the steps.

I let out a sigh. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to break the bad news so soon. “I’m afraid so.”

“Oh dear.” She holds me tightly. It’s hard to be around Hafjorg when her attitude reminds me so much of my real mother. “You don’t have to say anything. Your face says it all.” She carefully lifts my chin. “Worry not. I will ask the inn keeper to lend us money, we’ll be fine.”

“Nonsense.” I shake my head. “I’ll talk to Dinya. We can do a fundraising, and I’ll work extra hours at the temple, and-“

“That is not necessary, dear.” Hafjorg chuckles. “We always manage, have you not learned that?”

I run a hand through my hair, my stomach boiling, her words hitting my heart. She’s not wrong. They do **_always_** manage.

Always.

“This has gone way too far.” I think back to all those times I joined the Thieves Guild and terrorized the city to receive payment. If only I had my level 76 powers right now. “I could go to Whiterun. Maybe the Companions would take care of this.”

“Oh, where do you even hear these things?”

“Or I can finally apply to the College of Winterhold. I’d send money.” My mind keeps racing, not really paying attention to Hafjorg’s answers. But what if I can’t leave Riften again?

“It’s not you burden, sweetheart. And it’s such a dangerous path, you’ve never traveled before. Please don’t go.”

“You’re like parents to me, I’m not letting Maven Blackbriar and her puppets ruin you.” My frustration grows.

“No, no. Maven is a powerful, dangerous person. We wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to you.”

“I’ll talk to Dinya.” I leave before Hafjorg can answer. As I hurry to gather my things, my thoughts keep going back to how we gathered the money the last time… and the time before that… and not just us.

The innkeeper, all the shop owners. Their effort, their sweat… all taken away, either by thieves or corruption.

Then my mind doesn’t race anymore, and only one decision remains.

I will kill Maven Blackbriar.

* * *

Ever since I got here, I never had the courage, or will, to actually kill anyone. I barely dare to hunt, can’t stand to hurt animals. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t leveled up as much.

But this… this I’ll enjoy.

“Looking for some armor? Weapons?- Oh, hello, Calineth. How’s Elgrim doing?”

“Grumpy as always. You know him.” I grin.

“Hah, I assumed as much. Came here to chat with old Balimund?”

“Yes aaaaand nope. Actually, I’m here for business. What quality newbies have you got?”

* * *

I remember this game. Enchanted goods will do the do. Maven may be powerful in influence and money, but in combat… she’s never done the dirty work and the _essential_ status doesn't exist here. Oh, I used to be so rich in the game, creating enchanted jewelry and selling it, but in real life… nothing’s that simple, nothing’s the same.

I’ll make it be the same.

Sneaking into Maven’s house would be a very bad idea. There’s guards and again, my sneaking skill isn’t that high. But in public…

Maven’s too arrogant, overly confident, too convinced that she has so much influence in Riften, with the Guild and the Dark Brotherhood on her side, that no one would dare to make a move against her. She’s never asked for any sort of protection in public, she makes herself at home anywhere she goes.

Bow and arrows with me, I go to the upper floor of the Bee and the Barb, crouching as I wait for her to come in. I have to remind myself several times that this is still a stupid game and that I’m not an actual murderer, because she’s a fictional character. It does nothing to calm the tremor in my fingers that threatens to take control of my whole body.

As I argue with myself, it doesn’t take long before Maven walks in, bitching about something as always. Money, of course, what else? I ready my new elven bow, enchanted to freeze the victim, aiming at her head. I have to shoot before she comes to the upper floor, like she always does, or I’ll lose any chance. My hands are so sweaty, yet my grip tightens.

No. I can’t do this. I can’t become a killer. Even if this is a game, everything’s been too real! The cold, the hunger, the pain… what if game over means dying for real? This is insane. I’ll officially be a murderer in my head, and if I get caught, the Dark Brotherhood could come after me, and then…

And then what? She keeps reigning forever and ruining businesses, stealing from honest workers? Bribing the guards and putting her competition in jail? Oh, and she becomes Jarl? The only way to take her down is to join the Stormcloaks, and they hate anyone who isn’t a Nord.

I hate racism. I hate corruption. I hate injustice. I hate cruelty. And I sure as hell hate Maven.

My blood turns to ice, as an arrow pierces Maven’s shoulder, throwing her to the ground. Among the screams and the chaos, time stops, as I realize it is _my_ arrow.

People run out of the bar, while others draw their weapons out, only for a second arrow to stab Maven’s chest, leaving her dead in a pool of blood and spilled mead.

Except this time it wasn’t my arrow.

Someone downstairs points at me, frantically mouthing something. All I hear would be absolute silence if it weren’t for the ringing in my ear.

Guards start marching in, as my arm is yanked. “Let’s go! Now!” Neydan yells several times, snapping me out of my daze, as he slides an ebony bow over his shoulder.

He pulls me up forcefully, not letting go of my wrist, leading me down the corridor as fast as he can, guards close behind. Just when I think we’ve cornered ourselves in a room, Neydan pushes me out of the window, after he quickly barricades the door with furniture, and pulls my wrist again.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, out of breath, as we run for dear life, jumping from one roof to the other. ”Watch out!” I cast a ward spell in front of him, blocking an arrow. Guards surround the houses beneath us, bows and swords out.

“Damn it!” With a growl, Neydan waves his free hand, vanishing both of us with an invisibility spell.

Just when I think that’ll be enough to allow us to escape, I’m thrown off balance and the world spins, only for me to fall into the cold sea.

Before I can even gasp for air, I’m being dragged by the wrist once again.

“Come on, come on! Swim.”

We swim for what seems an eternity, until we make it to a shore. Neydan drags me out, unnecessarily I must add, both of us collapsing on our backs to catch our breath. It’s only then when he lets me go and I notice my wrist and my forearm throbbing, already starting to bruise from his grip.

Several minutes pass before any of us moves or speaks for the matter.

“Why did you do it?” I whisper.

“Hm?” He turns his head to me, his body still facing the sky.

“You heard me.”

He chuckles bitterly at my response, clearing his throat. “You didn’t just ask me that, Cal. Nope. You don’t get the privilege. I do. Why?"

A swirl of emotions tugging at my heart. It takes me a few seconds to answer. “You’re my best friend. You already know why.”

He props himself up with an elbow, unsatisfied. I refuse to make eye contact, focusing on the feeling of the damp soil beneath me and salty air.

“Maven didn’t give us the extra week to pay.” I cover up my face. The weight of reality, of what we just did, finally dawning on me. “Hafjorg and Elgrim are like parents to me, you know that. What was I supposed to do? Let her and the damn thieves take everything from them in exchange for peaceful poverty? For how long? It’s… it’s not fair!” Tears sting my eyes. “I know you work with the Guild sometimes, but-“

“Hey, hey, stop.” Neydan softens his voice, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve hid the body myself or at least teach you the basics, instead of all the bloody mess you made. You insist on being noticed, don't you?” He laughs. “We could’ve turned it into an archery competition, huh? Not that you have a chance against me, anyways.”

“No, Neydan.” I jolt up, burying my face in my hands. “I’m serious. Murder wouldn't be my first option ever, but I couldn't control myself, I just wanted her to be over for good.”

He holds me close and I let myself relax in his embrace, as we fall into comfortable silence. I can always trust Neydan not to judge.

“You know we can’t be back in a long while, right?”

I nod, wiping my tears away. “You weren’t supposed to be involved. Now they’ll look for you too. How did you know where I was?”

“Call it best friend’s intuition.”

“It was Hafjorg, wasn’t it?”

“Yup. She got worried you were acting all weird. After that, tracking you down was easy.” He shrugs, chuckling incredulously. “At first I didn’t know what you were doing up there, looking like a scared deer, until Maven came in and you were aiming at her. Didn’t think you had it in you, or I would’ve stolen your kill, but boy, you proved me wrong.”

I stare at him. “You sort of did steal my kill.”

“Well, that shot was horrible, I had to show you how it’s done.” He says, cockily. “Besides you don’t know me if you think I’d leave you alone to the Brotherhood’s hands. Or Thieves’. You may have killed Maven, but her relatives are pretty much alive. They’ll put a price on your head. They'll look for you.”

“For us.” I correct him.

“Exactly. You're with me now so, to look for is one thing, but to _find… that’s_ entirely different.” He winks, patting his pockets. “I’ve got some coin, but we’ll need more. My contacts will do the trick, though. Town was getting boring anyway, wouldn’t you agree?”

Of course he thinks that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading this, could you leave a review? I don't know if this story has any readers, so I don't know if it's worth to finish it. Thank you!


	3. The magnificent NPC

I’ve never been able to leave The Rift before.

Like I said, something always prevented me from leaving, like The Thalmor, hunters, work, etc. It was as if the game wanted to keep me trapped in Riften, so I never got to know a different city.

Not in a way that wasn’t through my PS4, from the comfort of my room in my other life, when I was an incredible warrior and all I had to do was press R 1 . Now, I can barely stand here in Windhelm, lamely wrapped in a blanket made of wolf pelt that Neydan got me from the Khajit caravan. He also paid for a letter to be sent.

Naturally, Windhelm was our first choice to escape, considering it’s the closest hold that isn’t under Imperial control. No Imperial control means guards won’t be hunting me down at first sight, since Blackbriar’s influence isn’t as strong. For now, at least. Neydan says we have little time since the Blackbriars will put a high price on our heads, and whether you are Imperial or Stormcloak, when coin calls out, men answer.

As soon as we rent a couple of rooms at the inn, Neydan invites me dinner at the tavern. It must be like, what, midnight? Normally, knowing Neydan’s drinking habits, I’d have refused, but as tired, cold and hungry as I am, I don’t put much of a fight.

I let out a yawn before finishing a rabbit leg, while Neydan takes long, noisy sips of an Argonian bloodwine bottle. I dare to say he’s the only one I feel comfortable sharing silence with. Not that he knows the meaning of quiet.

A tall, hooded figure walks in, immediately attracting Neydan’s attention. The broad shoulders and slim body attract mine. 

My gaze goes back to Neydan as soon as I see the stranger walk towards us. “He’s a friend of mine. Let me do the talking.” He winks at me, before finishing the bottle.

“Spit out your conditions.” The young man speaks to Neydan, as he takes a seat, his demeanor straightforward. I’m inwardly awed by his intense, fiery amber eyes, behind his mask. _And that voice, daaaayumn._ Who is this magnificent NPC?

“Nice to see you too.” Neydan smirks. I know he calls everyone a friend, but this dude seems anything but.

Anything but damn gorgeous.

“Rumor has it you got in big, big trouble, Neydan. You won’t be able to take your way out of this one.”

“Nothing coin can’t solve.” As if to make his point, Neydan spins one in his fingers. “That’s where you come in, pal.”

The stranger scoffs. “That bloody barrow? How much have you been drinking?”

My eyes discreetly trail down his strong neck and muscular arms. I’m cold and tired, don’t judge me.

“You want me to help you fight your way into Morrowind, I ask for a tour guide in return once we’re there. You’ll get a cut too of course. Enough to start anew, I might add.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

My eyes widen. Neydan’s mentioned a barrow in Morrowind a couple of times before. Many times, actually. He said it contained enough gold to buy two lifetimes, but I always took it for a legend, never seriously.

The stranger stabs a dagger in the table, frightening me in the process. Neydan only chuckles. “I only need to make it to Morrowind. I’ll pay for that, but deal ends there.”

Neydan shrugs, stealing the remaining rabbit leg from my plate in spite of my protests “Suit yourself, Drerzer. You still can change your mind, though. The Skaal are still looking for ye?” He asks, mouth full.

“I can manage on my own. But an extra pair of hands could be useful to cross the border in one piece. Anyway, is the half elf you mentioned coming? Is he trust worthy?”

“The best.” Neydan grins. “Not a **_he_**, though. Calineth, Drerzer. Drerzer, Calineth.” He signals to the bartender for another bottle. Yet, the shock in the stranger’s face is enough to truly shake me. “Mess with her and I’ll hunt you down.” Neydan grins.

Drerzer and I lock eyes for a long moment. He removes the hood and mask, revealing a very pale, light grin skin. Symmetric sharp features, square jaw. Short, thick, messy, black hair and jagged bangs. Damn, that intensity. Strikingly handsome. Then, he coldly scans me up and down before averting his gaze. My cheeks burn as a result.

“This weakling? If the Brotherhood doesn’t claim her here, Morrowind’s ashes will. She won’t make it.” 

Neydan shoots me a quick look and I bite my tongue. Officially, I want to get rid of the hot dude and give him a piece of my mind. But if someone like Neydan thinks we need him, then we must really do need him. I can tell how serious he is about this.

“You don’t know her, pal.” Neydan replies. “We’re a complete package. You take us both or go by yourself.”

“Wow.” Drerzer shakes his head in realization, laughing bitterly. “And I thought she was _paid company _you got. Do you even realize what you have done? You didn’t screw just the Blackbriars, no. You screw many people who had business with her. Powerful people. I can’t believe you’d actually endanger your life to this degree, throw away everything you’ve worked so hard for, for what? This bitch? Never thought you for the type to-“

His words pain me in a way I can’t explain. However before I can dwell on the implications, on the actual weight of reality once more, Neydan punches Drerzer in his gorgeous cheekbone, making me stand up immediately, my chair falling behind me. Drerzer’s quick to answer, only for his fist to be avoided by Neydan, and just like in the game, a brawl unfolds with people around cheering and making bets.

“Neydan! Stop! Stop it this instant!” I yell, yet the brawl continues as they roll on the floor, neither holding back in their punches. “STOP!”

Drerzer grabs Neydan by the collar, slamming his head on the floor, repeatedly.

“Cal, stay back!” Neydan spits blood.

“I said stop.” I whisper in Drerzer’s ear, holding a dagger to his neck, silencing the crowd. My heart pounds. I don’t think I can murder two people the same day. Derzer slowly lets go of Neydan’s collar. I expect hate when he turns his gaze to me.

Nope.

Confusion that causes my own.

“Cal, I said stay back. It’s okay.” Neydan repeats.

“Leave, filthy outsiders. The three of you, or I call the guards.” The innkeeper draws out a dagger of his own. “Now.”

* * *

Much to my anger, I walk behind Drerzer and Neydan, dragging my freezing feet in the snow. Of course we’ve been expelled from Windhelm. Neydan’s laughing his ass off and both help each other walk. Drerzer’s got a black eye and a split lip, while my idiotic friend’s nose hasn’t stop bleeding.

I refused to heal them.

They hunt and we set camp near the border. I lay down as close to the fire as I can. Turns out these idiots have the habit of brawling every time they meet, which is no crime, except I made it one the minute I drew out my dagger.

I know how Skyrim works! But how was I supposed to know if this Drerzer jerk was a real threat or not?

Although it doesn’t take long for sleep to come for me, I catch a few words.

“Seriously. Why did you do it? Why would you kill Maven?”

“I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do.”

Anger grows in Drerzer’s whispers. “She can’t possibly be worth the risk of killing Maven Blackbriar. You’d never do this, you knew the risks. What’s so special about the halfling? Just look at her, she’s no adventurer, and there’s twice as beautiful women out there. The Neydan I know would’ve never done something as stupid as that, your life will never be the same now.”

“Please, don’t give me that crap. I saw the way you looked at her the minute you entered the inn. She’s exactly your type. And let me tell you, she’s blood-kin. You mess with her, you mess with me.”

His frustration grows, yet he lowers his voice. “Blood-kin? So, what, you’re an orc now? Come on, Neydan, don’t be ridiculous. You can still leave this shit behind. If you’re so fond of her, give her to the Guild before the Brotherhood finds her, and the Blackbriars will-”

“She. Is. Blood-kin.” Neydan replies as slowly and as severely as I’ve ever heard him.

“Your call. But I won’t protect her.” Drerzer stands up and doesn’t say another word.

* * *

The next morning is pure chaos.

I wake up to Neydan’s face, signaling me to shut up. Suddenly all I hear are distant battle cries.

Drerzer holds his sword, frantically motioning for Neydan to follow. Neydan draws out his bow, and I follow after them.

I summon a fire atronach.

Neydan takes the lead, Drerzer and I chasing after him.

“Halfling, that draws too much attention.” The dark elf growls to my atronach. After yesterday, I refuse to speak to him, to even acknowledge his existence. Guilt wouldn’t let me sleep because of him. Now I feel like I ruined my best friend’s life, and that’s all I’ve been able to think about.

“Drerzer, be quiet.” Neydan hisses, not stopping.

The dark elf ignores him, glancing behind us, but there’s nothing. “Shit. Too late.” He suddenly yanks my arm, before lifting his sword and slicing an Imperial’s throat that came out of nowhere. “Go!” He shouts at us.

Neydan grabs my wrist, as my fire atronach destroys a second soldier, staying back with the dunmer. Suddenly Neydan and I are both invisible, and I stare in horror as a dozen of Imperial soldiers surround Drerzer.

And that’s when it happens.

He ceases fighting, letting himself be ko’d in the process. Smart move, he won’t be killed the way. And only to be carried to a carriage.

Next to Ulfric Stormcloak.

It hits me. Hard. Very, very hard. There’s no other explanation, all these years waiting, suddenly gone.

He’s the dragonborn.

Neydan and I hide behind some trees. I’m barely processing everything, a void in my chest. Am I an NPC? Who am I? What am I supposed to do in this world if I’m not dragonborn? Am I trapped here forever?

The invisibility spell fades, and we stop to catch our breath.

“Stupid Drerzer.” Neydan spits.

“We have to get him.”

Neydan groans in frustration, leaning on a tree. “This is on him. You know he tried to sell you out for Maven’s murder? In exchange for the price on his head and mine? That’s what this is, this ambush is on him. And now he lets himself be captured? The son of a bitch...”

“You’re saying you won’t bail him out?” I ask in a flat tone.

“Of course I’m going to bail him out, dammit!” He kicks the snow. “Or maybe I should let him suffer a while in prison.”

“He’s not going to jail.”

Neydan waves his hand dismissively, among breaths. “He’s not as charismatic to persuade anyone to let him go. Even with coin. Trust me, I know.”

“They think he’s with Ulfric. They’ll execute him.” I cross my arms, gazing to the snow, answering in spite of my shock. “We have to save him before they take him to Helgen.”

“By the eight, you’re right. But what are you implying, Cal? How do you know-?”

“You have to trust me.” I grab his shoulders, surprising him. “Can you do that?”

He stares at me, confused. Still, he nods.

“From this day on, there’s a few things I’ll know, but I can’t explain. I just… need your trust” In my mind, I also promise him to get him his life back. To repay him what he’s done for me. “That’s all I’m asking.”

“Very good, Cal.” He smirks. “But if something goes wrong, you owe me a favor. Anything. Deal?”

I love how mysterious it sounds, but ‘anything’ in Neydan’s language, usually translates to ‘booze’. What else?

“Done.”

* * *

We follow the Imperials quietly, hiding in a pile of hay in the last carriage. Neydan rarely shuts up, but for a job, I don’t know anyone who’s more reliable and sneakier.

It takes several hours before we make it to Helgen. Drerzer and Ulfric are ahead, the dark elf barely awake. As strikingly handsome as Drerzer is, I can’t help but focus on Ulfric. Even if I weren’t a Breton, I wouldn’t want him in the throne. Skyrim should belong to everyone. I know for a fact he won’t be executed, but what if we…

No.

One murder is enough.

We stop, and the soldiers make everyone climb off the carriages. Drerzer looks unfazed, perfectly collected.

Just like I thought.

“Neydan, listen.” I whisper as we hide behind a house. Neydan’s distracted by the thief trying to escape only to be shot with an arrow.

“Cal, I don’t like this-“

I continue, cutting through his protests, “they’ll try to execute Drerzer, but then a dragon, Alduin, will interrupt. When that happens, we take Drerzer with us and we escape, got it?”

He stares at me intently, only for a brief moment, figuring out how serious I am. Then amusement comes back to his face. “Of course I got it. Wait, a dragon?”

Drerzer walks in front of Hadvar. The dunmer looks annoyed, yet greets him as if he’s an old acquaintance.

“I… I don’t know you.” Hadvar steps back. I can see remorse in his eyes. That’s why I always choose him to escape, he knows this shouldn’t be happening. Although he lets it happen anyway, so… debatable.

“Execute him.”

Drerzer kneels before the executioner. A growl is heard in the distance. Once more, Drerzer’s not surprised.

“Cal…”

“Wait. When he appears, shoot him in the eye. Aim right there.” I answer to Neydan.

The executioner lifts the axe. Another growl.

“…Cal? Is this for real? A dragon’s coming?”

“Aim.”

A third one. Screams. Then massive black wings.

Alduin.

“Shoot.” I say.Quick

“BY THE EIGHT!” Neydan flinches, his arrow landing on a poor stormcloak instead.

“Quick! We have to get Drerzer!”

Hands tied, the dunmer sprints towards the carriages, avoiding soldiers and people, whom are too busy, either attacking Alduin or burning in his fire. Screams. That’s all I can hear.

Neydan stays close, as we chase after Drerzer, who’s obviously going for his loot. I summon an atronach, with the sole intention of making it there in one piece.

However, it begins attacking Alduin, drawing his attention to us in the process.

“Dormenor, shield!” Neydan yells at me, drawing out his dagger, and we both make a magic ward to stop dragon fire. My atronach becomes a bunch of ashes in a matter of seconds, and my skin stings, even if the fire doesn’t touch me.

Alduin’s roars are deafening. Lucky for us, some archers get his attention. The disgusting smell of burning human flesh filling the air, almost makes me throw up, making it extremely difficult to run for dear life.

“You.” I fail to shout at Drerzer, however, Neydan’s already cutting the rope in his wrists.

“Saving your ass means extra pay.” Neydan pushes Drerzer once he’s free.

“You and your damn Blood-kin shit.” He quickly collects his things. I take a mental note it’s an ebony blade he has. Good loot. “Last time I’ll respect that crap. Deal’s off. You’re on your own.”

“No. You come with us.” I summon an atronach next to him. He glares at me but before he can reply, I add the word I know will change his mind. “Dragonborn.”

An explosion throws us off our balance, dissolving my atronach once more since it absorbed the impact. Neydan summons a ward above us, covering us from the debris. We need to get out of here. Fast.

Sharing the same thought, we remain in the ground, as Alduin flies directly above us. Neydan’s body covering mine.

Until it isn’t, because Drerzer is on top of me, his cold ebony sword touching my neck.

“Drerzer…” Neydan says carefully.

“What did you say?” He lightly presses the tip on my overly sensitive, hot skin. I gulp.

“Come with us.” I answer softly, awfully conscious of the blade. “I’m a PC too.”

His eyes widen, immediately standing up. 

Neydan runs to me immediately, helping me up, but I don’t break eye contact with the shocked dark elf.

“Yup, you convinced him, I know this man.” He glares daggers at Drerzer. “Now, we have to leave this hell hole.”

Compared to the original game, escaping this time is extremely easy, as we take a much better route. With two skilled rogues, although Drerzer’s more like a warrior, and with lots of soldiers drawing Alduin’s attention, the difficult part is not throwing up at the sight of the corpses left behind.

Half an hour later, we’re in the forest, hiding in the trees instead of waiting in an open area, like Hadvar always does. Much smarter move, to be honest. Alduin’s finally left.

“Okay.” Derzer sheathes his sword. “Spill it. Who are you, halfling?”

“Why are you dragonborn?” I ignore his question, feeling my own frustration growing. His intelligent eyes observe me. “I thought I was the real PC.”

His defensive stance relaxes. Barely. Only then, Neydan does the same, although he seems twice as puzzled.

“Who brought you here?” Drerzer asks reluctantly, after a short while.

“Sheogorath. But that was several years ago. 25 to be exact, same as in real life.” I swallow. My shock finally turning into anger, and my anger turning rage, especially when I think of that name. I never had a chance at finding a great destiny. My life, all a lie. All the waiting, all these years…

“I’m 63 here.” Drerzer turns his back on me. “26 in real life.” Considering elves live centuries, it must be the equivalent. He certainly looks the part.

My gaze widens in realization. In horror. We could be trapped here forever for all I know.

“Who else knows?”

“No one.”

He closes the distance between us, towering over me. “It must stay that way, do you understand?”

“Okay, okay, you’ve talked enough. What’s going on here?” Neydan gets in the way, puffing his chest out. I notice he’s only slightly shorter than Drerzer.

* * *

I convinced Drerzer to explain the whole thing to Neydan. He wasn’t that open about his story, so all I know is he’s a gamer and the screen swallowed him. That’s it. No daedric princes involved. He’s never died, and he grew up in Morrowind with a wizard, but that’s all he said. Neydan seems to already know that part of the story. He rarely goes quiet, so I know there’s more to Drerzer than what they’re telling me.

We’re not sure Neydan understood the concept of a videogame, but living in a magical world, it wasn’t too difficult for him to believe us.

In the end, we debate whether to go to Whiterun or not. I remind Drerzer of the story, there could be many, many changes if we don’t do our part. This world works like reality, it won’t wait until we- no, not we. Until **_Drerzer_**, the precious dragonborn, accomplishes quests. Time keeps flowing here, NPC’s make choices like real people. I mean, Maven’s dead! The essential status doesn’t exist here! Anything could go differently!

But we can’t also simply go to Whiterun, with a bounty on our heads, and the Dark Brotherhood and Thieves Guild behind my back. Drerzer says there’s already mercenaries looking for us.

“Drerzer, Skyrim needs you. You’re the Dragonborn.” Neydan looks at me puzzled, unable to understand why I’m so upset. “We can’t leave them to die. You know Alduin will kill them all if you don't let them know about the dragons.”

“I can’t, halfling. Not without going to Morrowind, first.” He continues walking. “Like I said, once there, you’re on your own. I have my own business.”

“This isn’t a videogame, you know? NPC’s won’t wait for you to explore to your heart’s content. The Civil War could begin any time with or without our permission. _**Your**_ permission. ”

“Cal, we need coin.” Neydan cuts in. “That coin is in Morrowind. We help him get there, we get our cut, then we start from there. There’s plenty of warriors in Skyrim who’ll take care of this dragon crap while we’re gone, we’ve got our own issues, remember? In case you forgot, we now have lots of enemies in high places, but coin can solve that.” He adds with a sing-song voice.

“I love Whiterun. Ever since I got here, I’ve been dreaming of visiting. Please, Drerzer. You can’t leave them all to die.”

“Cal, I’m sure someone will let them know, news like dragons fly. Heh.” Neydan grins at his own pun. I’d have too, if it weren’t for the grave danger my second favorite city is in.

“Drerzer, dammit, listen!” I stand in front of him, punching his arm. “There’s the Companions, the Jarl-“

“The Jarl can die for all I care.” He pushes me aside.

“-An orphan little girl, for Mara’s sake! This isn’t about you! You’re the DRAGONBORN! Do you know how much I wish-!”

“I’ll send a letter, will you shut up now?” Drerzer snaps at me, shutting me up, leaving a dangerous-looking Neydan beside me.

“Take it down a notch, will you? Like you said, she’s not used to adventure.” Neydan says nicely, but I know better. A threat.

“Our partnership’s business.” Drerzer closes his eyes, trying to calm himself down. “Once we’re done, we part ways.”

“Deal.” Neydan replies, silencing me with a muffle spell. Drerzer goes ahead, and my so called best friend gives me an annoyed look. “Don’t push your luck, princess.”


	4. Morrowind

We board a ship to Morrowind.

I notice Neydan pays extra gold to the captain, who he seems to know well, while Drerzer covers his head with a hoodie, and quietly leaves to a corner.

I don’t get it. All I know is he’s acting like a fugitive and I don’t like it one bit. What did he do?

If only he weren’t so damn attractive.

A couple of hours later, Neydan casts an invisibility spell on him. He lets me know we’re about to arrive.

Neydan’s unusual concentration on the spell makes my hands sweat. I catch myself trying to act as naturally as I can, as if I’m being watched. What’s this all about? Not for the first time, he asks me very quietly to let him do the talking.

This time I’m happy to oblige.

As soon as we arrive to port, a middle-aged looking Dunmer’s there to receive us. I feel myself shrink.

“Long time no see, Mr. Neydan Niruil.” Inwardly, I shake my head in disapproval. Neydan always changes his last name, not even I know his true one. “I see you have brought another outlander with you. Hmph. State your intentions in Raven Rock.”

“Always a pleasure to see you, Second Councilor Adril Arano.” Neydan grins broadly. That grin has led so many beautiful, unsuspecting rich maidens, to lose their best jewelry, horses and looooots of money. Adril’s not impressed, though. “This is my business partner, Calineth Moret. And the usual, we’re looking for work, nothing more.”

What?! Is this my life now too?! I mean, of course. I should have expected him to change my last name, we did kill a Black-Briar, after all. I do like my last name Dormenor, though.

“I expect you to abide by our laws. Unlike last time, now you are familiar with them. We shall not be so lenient in the future.”

“Understood.” Neydan nods. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, you shouldn't let us distract you from your duties.”

* * *

We quickly enter Raven Rock, hiding behind one of their strange buildings. Everything is EXTREMELY different from Skyrim. I’d already played this expansion, but physically being here, is a whole new... level?

Neydan dispels the invisibility charm on Drerzer. “So, what now, pal? Your business first or mine?”

“I told you I can’t help you with yours.” Drerzer dusts his clothes off, throwing Neydan a pouch of money, he gladly receives. “We can part ways, **_or_** you can earn extra coin if you help me steal a black book from… you know who.” He stares into the horizon. “I’ll get different hands if you can’t.”

“Blah, blah, blah, all I heard was extra coin. You got yourself a deal.” Proudly, Neydan shakes his hand.

“Wait, a black book? As in… a generic black book,” I exaggerate my casual tone, “or as in one of **_THE BLACK BOOKS_**?” I feel blood drain from my face. I’m not leveled up enough for that, nor do I think Neydan is. What is Drerzer thinking?

“What are ye saying, Cal?” Neydan furrows his brow.

“You’re planning on running straight into Hermaeus Mora’s arms? Do you actually listen what you’re saying? Drerzer, you can’t go selling your soul to daedric princes, in case you haven’t noticed this is **reality**, and who are you going to steal it fro- Oh.” I hold my breath. I remember.

“Not. Your. Business, Breton.” Drerzer raises his voice.

“It’s a daedric book? Whoa, nice! Such a visionary you are. That’s why you’re my favorite business partner, man.” Neydan laughs. “That cheap wizard won’t see it coming.”

“Neloth’s no cheap wizard. He’s powerful, and you can’t even use Shouts yet, how do you expect to have a chance against him?” I try to reason with him for the millionth time. “What’s with this plan of yours, what if he catches you? It’s too risky.”

“Cal, relax, he won’t be risking anything.” Neydan exhales. “I’m the one stealing the book, no big deal. In fact, thanks for worrying about me, by the way.” He adds with sarcasm.

My eyes widen. Drerzer’s proved to be a decent fighter. He has known Neydan for a while, they know each other’s fighting style, strengths and weaknesses. From what I’ve caught, it's safe to say they trust each other. They make a pretty decent team, I admit it. But Neydan ALONE against Neloth? No fucking way. My skills suck, I don’t even count as help. “Just you, Neydan?”

“Uh, yeah? You know, that’s why I’m paying him? The definition of a job?” Drerzer says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“No! No deal. I’d tell you to steal the book yourself and be Hermaeus Mora’s slave, I couldn’t care less, but again, Drerzer, this isn’t about _you_. Skyrim needs you alive. This is stupid! Why do you even want this book? You have plenty of advantage, you’re already a high level, and the story has just begun! And what's with the rich boy attitude? You’re the Dragonborn, you can’t have people do everything for you, you’re supposed to be the hero!”

“Cal.” Neydan warns me, shaking his head, while Drerzer walks away a few steps, trying to calm himself down. Again. “Uh, he **can’t. **Seriously. Not against Neloth. Not that he won't, but he can’t **can’t**.”

“Shut up.” Drerzer snaps. “Don’t say more to her. This job is between you and me, are you in or not?”

“You heard the Dunmer. That’s all I can tell you.” Neydan shrugs. “Like I said, I’m in, but while I’m out there, you take care of Cal. That’s my one condition.”

Drerzer shakes his head, walking away. “No deal, then. Good luck with… whatever. I’ll get me a thief.”

“I’m calling the guards on you, then.” Neydan smirks, while Drerzer turns around, paler than usual.

“No, you're not.” You can hear the poison in his words. Still he continues walking away.

“Think about it. Who’ll agree to help you? Let’s think of every possibility, shall we?” Drerzer stops at Neydan’s words, not looking back. Neydan winks at me. “One, if they know who you are, which I could bet any idiot in Morrowind does, they’ll sell you out to claim the bounty on your head, which is more coin than you’re offering. Very likely to happen! Two, even if you’re willing to spend a lot more coin than this job is worth AND/OR by some miracle they ignore who you are, who in their sane mind would dare to mess with All Mighty Neloth, from House Telvanni, also a very known figure in Morrowind? Three, in the best case scenario, even if some desperate, mediocre thief accepted the job, and assuming they have Nocturnal’s blessing to actually complete it- Unlikely by the way! How can you trust they won’t run away with the book once they get it? It’s no ordinary tome, after all, and daedric books are not exactly known for their modest appearance. They’re easy to distinguish and you know how much is worth something like that in the market.”

Even I am convinced at my friend’s logic. It surprises me how damn persuasive he can be sometimes, but so far he hasn't said anything crazy. He's right. Drerzer gazes down at the ground and Neydan continues, enjoying every minute of it.

“The thief will probably try to sell it for half the price of its’ real value, a fool’s ignorance is the bliss of a true merchant, but that won’t matter, because Neloth will track the poor fool down, make them confess about you, kill them and get his special daedric book back. The end. Also, let’s not forget the fact that you can’t afford chasing around a petty thief, in that case. Not here in Morrowind, with everyone looking for ye. Especially Neloth.”

Oh, that shit-eating grin. I’ve seen it so many times. “Besides, you know I’m the best at what I do. But it’s your choice, pal. Job or guards, I’ll make my extra coin one way or another.”

I suspect it bothers Drerzer as much as it bothers me.

Judging by his face when he turns around, maybe even more.

* * *

We discussed a plan. All I know is there’s some spell that prevents Drerzer to go directly against Neloth in any way, but couldn’t get the slightest hint as to how things ended up like that. Seems like a touchy subject to them if you ask me. I insisted there had to be something I could do to help Neydan, but he insisted I stayed out of trouble. In the end, we found a way to unify our different perspectives with the following plan:

-As skillful a thief as Neydan is, Drerzer and I convinced him that Neloth’s quite powerful and should not be underestimated. He’d need help. Drerzer can’t help him because of the curse, but he can protect me, while I help.

We stay close from his citadel, and wait until nightfall. Honestly, I’d be happy if I could live in a huge fungal home, like the ones Neloth grew here. I’d grow one in Skyrim, and live a peaceful, happy, simple life.

But that dream’s for another moment.

“The Breton will lead ash spawns here as a diversion.” Drerzer says. “I’ll cover her useless back. You get the book. Simple.”

“Perfect plan!” Neydan rubs his hands together. “Shall we begin, partners?”

“Be careful, okay?” A shiver runs down my spine. I feel like we’re missing a lot more details, but… there’s not much left to discuss, I have no experience in this. Still, there’s a million things that could go wrong. Do we really need that much coin? Neydan smirks.

“I’ll be back soon. Protecting you is my job, and I don’t like to be replaced. ”

Drerzer rolls his eyes. “Hide behind Neloth’s house. We’ll bring the monsters, when Neloth leaves the house, it’s your turn. Don’t screw up. Idiot.”

Neydan grins. “Same to you, bastard.”

* * *

Drerzer and I walk in silence. Awkward, very tense silence. That is until I break it.

“What are you going to do with that book?”

“Geez, you’ve spent way too much time around Neydan, can’t you shut up? I owe you nothing.” He groans in frustration. “Drop it.”

I gasp, grabbing his arm. “There.”

Drerzer takes a fighting stance, spotting the ash spawns in the distance. “Okay, I’m ready. Go get their attention with one of your cheap little tricks. You know, be remotely useful.”

“Why are you so freaking rude?” I frown, momentarily forgetting about the ash spawns. If I don’t ask now, I won’t get another chance. “No, really. Why do you hate me?”

He scoffs. “Oh, I dunno, Breton. Maybe because you used and are still using the most loyal person I’ve ever known, tricked him into screwing his own life for you, and I’ve never heard you apologize to him for what you made him do! Not even once! I'm not sure if you actually have the brains to realize what you got yourselves into. The Dark Brotherhood might get him because of you, ‘cause he’ll probably die protecting you, since you’re too stupid, too weak to look after yourself!”

I lash out at him. “I didn’t ask Neydan to kill Maven! I’d never ask anyone to kill for me, if that’s what you think! Much less Maven fucking Black-Briar!”

“Perhaps not directly, but I’m sure you slowly got into his head, playing the poor damsel in distress. How long did it take you to plan it? Things went awry because they caught you too and not just him? I know your kind. A different sort of thief. Go find a sugar daddy some place else.”

I’ve never been more offended in my life, yet somehow felt so horrible about myself at the same time. “What’s wrong with you? There was no plan, I decided to kill Maven that same day and tried to do it all by myself! I didn’t tell anyone about it, okay?!” I shout, letting out all the pain, anger and guilt this situation has brought me. Tears stream down my cheeks. “I WAS stupid! I agree with you, jackass Dunmer! But Neydan found me right when I was trying to kill her. I hadn't even noticed him until he shot her an arrow right after I did! Out of nowhere! I didn’t plan to sink **_him_**, MY BEST FRIEND, with me!” I bury my face in my hands. “But YES! This is all on me! It IS my fault and that’s why I can barely sleep and when I do, there’s only nightmares. I won’t be able to live with myself if anything happens to him because of me!”

Tears flow. 

There’s almost complete silence, except for my sobs. I expect Drerzer to argue further, to give me more reasons to feel like a piece of shit, or to encourage me to leave Neydan for his own protection, like I’ve been thinking in the back of my mind. But he doesn’t. Not for several moments.

Instead I hear him unsheathe his sword.

“Go!” He shouts, and I fall back, in time to see him cut the arm of an ash spawn, blocking its’ way to me.

I stagger back to my feet, tears blocking my view, summoning an atronach that immediately begins helping Drerzer. I control it to follow me, instead of letting it attack. It won’t last long against ash spawns, and I don’t have a large pool of magicka.

“Over here, you ash motherfuckers!” I begin to run full speed in the ashes, Drerzer and my atronach close behind.

I hear a few slashes of Drerzer’s sword, but I don’t pay it too much attention or I’ll be too nervous to continue.

Panting, I summon a second atronach as far ahead as I can. The first one dies. Drerzer yanks me out of the way, hiding me with him, behind one of the enormous mushrooms. As we fall on the dusty ground, I resist the urge to exchange glances with him, and quickly stop physical contact as soon as it’s no longer necessary. He does the same.

Much to my relief, ignoring the pleasant sensation of his warm skin becomes easy, because only then do I realize the hell we just set loose here. We attracted several ash spawns with our little argument. Who would have thought it’d be this effective? Neydan must be watching all these spawns with amusement, even though we can’t see him.

Focusing, I command my atronach to lead the ash spawns a little closer to the houses. They quickly kill it, but it doesn’t matter.

The plan’s in motion now.

It doesn’t take long before the poor, unsuspecting Dunmer start exiting their houses to see what the fuss is all about. The ash spawns don’t stop at nothing, their sole purpose to destroy. Once more, I feel guilty seeing the panic in their faces. They’re innocent, what are we doing? What if we cause real damage?

My heart skips a beat when Neloth comes out. I notice Drerzer holds his breath. He’s such an uptight person, but this is the most tense I’ve seen him. Not that I know him that much, anyways.

The mage begins cussing out loud, as he summons lightning magic, and storm atronachs. I suddenly remember why I considered his character for marriage when I used to play. Oh, if only I could be his apprentice.

“Do you think he’s already in?” I whisper.

He shrugs. “Probably. Maybe even out, knowing him.”

“What else is there to do?” I meet his gaze, still sniffing from when I cried.

“Wait.” He averts it. “Now we wait.”

I return my gaze to the chaos. _Neydan, hurry._ When I least expect it, a black handkerchief falls on my lap, startling me as I mistake it for a bug.

“Is this yours?” I ask Drerzer feebly.

“Clean yourself.” He replies with what anyone could tell as fake indifference. “Neydan will kick my ass if he finds you like that. Keep it.”

I sigh, before blowing my nose. “Apology accepted. Thanks.”

He opens his mouth as if he’s about to protest. Instead, he decides against it, returning his attention to the crazy battle.

“Do you have a death wish?!” Neloth shouts to the remaining 3 ash spawns, one of his lightning bolts barely missing the fungus tree we’re hiding in. Drerzer pushes me to the ground just in time for a second one, as I make a magic ward, covering his back.

“Master, are you alright?”

“I’m a Telvanni wizard-lord, of course I’m alright! I hope the gods curse these monsters and the one responsible for them. The nerve to interrupt my work! To invade my citadel!”

Drerzer and I stay still. Again, this is the most tense I've seen him, no, not tense but… fearful. What did Neloth do to him?

“Keep quiet.” He murmurs before swallowing and I nod, feeling his warm breath on my face. For Skyrim times, I expect something more _medieval_, but his breath actually smells of mint. Maybe as a modern-day person, he pays more mind to his teeth? The thought brings my attention to his sculpted lips and then his neck. If it were a different occasion, I’d long to snake my arms around it. 

Adrenaline has such a weird effect on me, you can tell I'm not used to it. We slowly sit again, careful not to attract unwanted attention.

We don’t let go of each other this time.

“Uhhhh, excuse me? Am I interrupting something?”

We’re both startled by Neydan’s voice behind us. Terrified, Drerzer and I are quick to react, pulling him down to our level.

“Idiot, you’ll get us caught!” Drerzer whispers, while Neydan stifles his chuckles. “Neloth’s not even in his house yet. Idiot.”

“I knew she was your type.” He playfully elbows Drerzer, making me blush horribly.

“Very mature. Idiot.”

“Stop it!” I slap Neydan’s arm. “So what? Did you get it?”

That shit-eating grin again, as he displays the book in front of us. In person, the black book is… intimidating to say the least. I don’t know if it’s just me, but you can feel a certain… odd… aura radiating from it.

I stop tracing the cover with my fingers. I know for sure I don’t want anything to do with that book.

“Well done, thief.” Drerzer takes it in his hands, handing Neydan another pouch of money. It’s over. A sensation of relief finally starts to settle in my chest. One step closer to leaving Morrowind.

Then I’m startled when he also throws me a pouch that hits my head.

Drerzer glares at me, before pretending to look at the cover of the book. “What’s with the look, Breton? A job’s a job. That’s your cut.”

“Aw, so my Breton did make an impression on the grumpy Dunmer, eh?” Neydan giggles again, receiving Drerzer’s punches on his shoulder. He then turns to me. “No, but seriously, Cal. If Drerzer’s giving you a cut, that means you did a good job.”

Ignoring Neydan’s previous attempts to tease us, I smile down at the pouch. A good job. That I did. “Thanks, Drerzer.”

“Neloth’s gone.” Clearly uncomfortable, the dark elf stands up, to his full height. Still impressive, if you ask me. “We should go.”

* * *

We set camp again. Neydan and Drerzer divide the watch evenly for the night. I insisted I could do one, but Neydan said I’m still not used to adventuring. He invited me to join him if I wanted to, though.

Once more, falling asleep isn’t easy.

“So, Drerzer, pal, old friend of mine, tell me. Why did Cali cry?” Neydan asks Drerzer in a particularly casual tone, his mouth full.

I repress a gasp. Damn it. He noticed. I press my eyes shut, but luckily for me, my back is facing them.

“Hm?”

“You heard me. I want the truth. What did you tell her?”

If he noticed, why didn’t he say anything? Drerzer doesn’t answer right away.

“My honest opinion.”

O.U. C. H.

Neydan hums in mock approval. “Oh, so you insulted her, and blamed her for my individual choices? Wow. Really classy. Classic Drerzer, am I right?”

“I think I get it now.” He lets out a long breath. “Why you did it.”

“Let me guess… you realized she’s not a fake, manipulative bitch? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have given her a cut. Don’t you dare deny it, I know you better than anyone.”

This conversation is so oddly… interesting. I hate to admit it. Why do I have to care way too much of what people think of me? I feel like a teenager eavesdropping on the boys in a pajama party or something.

“I… I guess she’s not… who I expected her to be. I give you that.”

Oh? Well, uh… thanks, Dragonborn? You’re not entirely horrible either. I don't know about your peersonality but your face and body definitely aren’t.

“She’s still useless, though.”

O U C H!! Damn you, dark elf!

But somehow… I’m not that offended, anymore.

* * *

My stomach growls at the delicious smell of meat in the morning. I slept through Neydan’s watch and of course, he didn’t wake me up. I’m not surprised.

Nonetheless, all I see is Drerzer eating in front of the fire, my Bosmer friend nowhere to be seen. Most of Skyrim is always cold, and Morrowind doesn’t seem to be the exception.

“Um, good morning.” I sit down, awkwardly. Back at home, I was always the first to wake up, but these elves, make me look super lazy in comparison.

He swallows his mouthful, remaining quiet. The air between us feels… strange.

I scan our surroundings. Drerzer answers before I even ask. “He went for more wood, he’ll be right back. There’s your breakfast.”

“Oh. Um, okay.” I smile at the nice gesture. “Thanks.”

“His doing, not mine. Look,” he places his plate on the ground, frustrated, taking me by surprise, “I don’t know you and I may have… misjudged you? Still not sure about that, though. But I won’t meddle in your relationship with Neydan, whatever it is you two have, as long as you don’t give me reason to believe you’re using him. Understood? You and I can have a polite professional relationship, and that’s that. Deal?”

I begin eating my breakfast. Deer. I hate to think of how it died, but in Skyrim you learn to survive with whatever nature throws at you, adventurer or not. “Wow. Well, I mean… sure?” This isn’t awkward. This isn’t awkward at all. “Just to make it clear, there’s nothing funny going on between Neydan and I. We’re bff’s.”

He rolls his intense, fiery eyes, full of storms, but the corner of his lips (those perfect lips) does something weird.

It sort of...

…twitches?

“What’s so funny?” I frown.

“Nothing.” His face grows ice cold in a second, along with his fiery eyes. Damn it. Why are they so pretty? “Anyway, Breton, ask Neydan to watch me while I read the book when he gets back.”

I place my plate back in the ground. “Ha! Good joke. Like I’d allow you to do that.”

“I don’t need your permission, halfling.” He raises his voice.

I run my hand through my hair. This man’s so secretive and frustrating. “Skyrim depends on you, why can’t you understand that? No book of Herma Mora is worth whatever you’re seeking, it’s just a few extra perks you don’t need right now. What if you sell your soul for real? We don’t even belong to this world, we have no idea what’s next if we die. Worse! What about Miraak? You know that’s his realm.”

He pauses briefly, seemingly considering my words only to shrug them off. “He doesn’t care about me. I haven’t been discovered as the Dragonborn, yet.”

“Drerzer.” I rub my temples, gathering my patience. “What do you want from this book? Like, _really_ want from it? No lying, what do you need so desperately? Seriously. I won’t judge.”

Repressing a sigh, he stops running his hand over the cover of the black book. Pausing for real, I can tell. I do my best to ignore the intense flames in his eyes. The darkness in his gaze. What’s he so tormented about?

He gazes up to the sky, as if carefully choosing his words. I lean forward in anticipation.

Then he opens the book.


	5. Plot twist

A mass of bulbous, black tentacles wiggle their way out of the pages, wrapping around Drerzer’s head and body, like chains pulling him closer. I lose whatever was left of my morning appetite.

In a useless attempt to stop this gross madness, I pull his arm, only to have my hand go right through his already translucent body.

I repeat the motion in horror. He can’t be moved.

My breath quickens and I repress the need of shouting Neydan’s name. We can’t risk to be found. Where the hell is he? Wasn’t he supposed to come back quickly? I bite my inner cheek, reminding myself that the Dunmer only has to reread the book to exit that demonic realm, nothing too difficult. Nevertheless, rereading that thing’s not the problem, the real problem is what the hell is he planning to do?

My legs are frozen in place. It doesn’t matter what Drerzer thinks, Miraak _will_ be there. Even if he doesn’t recognize him as Dragonborn, what if he mind-controls him? If we lose Drerzer, what will happen to Skyrim, if only a Dragonborn can defeat both Miraak and Alduin?

Every minute seems like an eternity. Waiting for Neydan to return is too high of a risk, considering all I have to do is make Drerzer reread that wretched book. Not that hard of a task. The longer I wait, the higher a chance for him to something stupid. He wouldn’t kill me for trying to stop him… would he?

Fuck it.

Placing myself behind him, I press my eyes shut, cursing into his translucent ear, hoping my words will reach him wherever he is.

Taking a deep breath, I start reading the book.

I expect to read something dark. Horrible. Yet it begins as a cryptic poem. The words aren’t particularly complex nor refined, yet none of it makes sense to me. In the middle of the second sentence, words slowly turn into symbols, and symbols become hypnotizing, shifting patterns of ink, dancing around the pages. My body grows weightless and my skin tingles.

Then tentacles come out.

I gasp, unable to breathe, unable to look away, as reality blurs at the corners of my vision. The sliminess I fear, never comes.

Next time I blink, I’m lying flat in my stomach, panting in the cold, dusty ground.

Apocrypha surrounds me.

Small tornadoes of books and torn pages, in random places. Walls are shelves. An overwhelming abundance of tomes, most of them black, clutters the endless, twisted halls in the distance. Ancient scrolls, papers and journals, scattered all over the floor. Giant stacks of reading material form spiraling pillars, some as impossibly tall as the sky itself.

But there is no sky.

And the worst: sudden slimy noises and low whispers I can't place. Not that I’m good at tracing the origin of sounds, but random pools of black liquid and areas entirely consumed by darkness, under the unsettling green void above, have the power to turn your mind against yourself.

Other than that, deafening silence.

How such an open, vast place can trigger sheer claustrophobia, is beyond me.

I wipe the cold sweat trickling down my neck and forehead as soon as I stand up from the sticky ground, regretting my decision a hundred times. The idea of Seekers or Lurkers inhabiting this place, horrifying me enough to not want to take a single step.

But I do, anyways.

I'm careful not to drag my feet and keep my arms as close to my body as I possibly can. My steps are ridiculously short, always remaining in the little light the narrow corridors have to offer. In different circumstances, I’d adore books, but I do my best to avoid eye contact as if to protect myself from temptation, a curse or whatever. It becomes impossible to ignore the stench of mold and acid, much less the distant whispers and gurgling sounds. Apocrypha is a bad omen in and of itself.

Drerzer's just a few steps away.

Dead.

Pushing that thought out of my head, I sprint towards his green-glowing body on the ground, yelping and tripping over when a black tentacle tries to wrap around my foot.

"Drerzer!" Unable to register the pain of the impact, I scoot over to his body. My fingers touch the sides his face, hoping whatever influence he's under, won’t transfer to me. Ice cold skin. I repeat his name as soon as I find a pulse. The Black Book nowhere to be seen.

Hollow moans fill the air. More gurgles.

"Oh my, another seeker of knowledge? How fortunate..."

A distorted, incorporeal voice speaks.

It takes me full five seconds to remind myself I know Restoration magic. And it takes every ounce of will to fight the fear building inside of me, and to force my trembling body to stay still enough to channel magicka. After several tries, I manage. The golden light doesn’t even make it to Drerzer’s skin, as if absorbed by something.

"Mortal,” the creepy voice continues, making my stomach flip, “I'd like to believe you are at least wise enough to know that will not work. However, if my hopes are misplaced and you do believe so, I’m afraid this place will gravely endanger you and your simple mind."

I bury my face in Drerzer's chest, muffling a scream of frustration and repressing sobs. Then lift my head, resisting the urge of hugging my knees. My hands squeeze and fidget with the fabric of my mage robes. What have we done?

"I agree." I manage to squeal out, almost choking in my tears, no physical sign of this daedric demon nor its monsters. Yet. Just the horrible, horrible moans. "W-we shall humbly take our leave then."

"Oh, but that is where you are mistaken, mortal." His low, distorted voice sends shivers down my spine and all I think is… no**. **I stop thinking altogether. I embrace my legs, my whole body. I might as well embrace my despair.

"You may be able to lie to yourself, but cannot do the same to me, The Gardener of Men. Not in my realm. Like many others, the truth is you do not wish to leave. You are a seeker of knowledge, which makes you a servant of mine, willing or not. Otherwise, fate would have not brought you here."

At first, I fail to speak in my sobbing. Then I don’t even try. It matters little, as he continues.

“I sense it in you. So predictable. Not unlike the other mortal you were chasing after, you seek power.”

I’m unable to pry my eyes away from Derzer’s body. All I can imagine is I’ll endure the same fate. He could take my soul forcing me into a contract. Force me to an afterlife of service.

“I-I don’t mean to contradict you, Lord Mora. P-please, I b-beg you d-don’t take offense, I mean absolutely no disrespect to you, b-but I don’t seek any benefit from you as valuable as it could be...” My quick, shaky voice betrays me, and I don’t know how else I could soften my words, only to protect my soul from the volatile mind of a Daedra. “I-I only came to retrieve the other m-mortal! I swear! I don’t know what he did to you, but I’m sure he meant no offense either! We’re only mortals after all, I’m sure you u-understand...”

He continues as if I hadn’t produced a sound at all. “You **_envy_** his destiny. You seek to comprehend why such a selfish soul would be the chosen one, and cannot stop wondering about the possibilities had you been put in his place. How different your life here could be, had you access to his abilities... the Shouts… You wonder what you lack, what makes him so special… I, knower of fate, can offer all these answers and more for the right price. I always reward my servants fairly.”

The deceitful demons from horror movies come to mind, in which they know all your sins and your darkest thoughts. Masters of manipulation. Whatever hopes I had for leaving this place untouched, are crushed now. He already knows my weak spots. My shock and yes, the horrible temptation for answers, the envy, are nothing compared to the shame of how ugly I feel inside right now.

“Like him, you wonder why you’re in this world, and what your place amongst mortal men is... Not only in the mundane plane of this world, but also in the one you existed before this. The world with no magic. The one where I hold no power over… **No influence**…”

As soon as he mentions my home world, the tears cease. My temperature drops. I don’t like where this conversation is going. Daedric agendas are NEVER good.

“I have a proposition.” I blurt out, a little breathless.

Only then, a portal opens. A huge, floating eye with of mass of tentacles for a body, appears before me.

Oh, the nightmares that’ll hunt me for the rest of my years.

“I see you’re finally following, mortal. Like I said, you **already are** my servant. **Willing or not**. It is far wiser to accept my generosity. Lord Mora gives as much as he takes. I’m listening…”

My mind races. I only have one shot. If he thinks he’s going to gain any control of the real world through me, he’s very, very wrong. The memories of the game run through my head. “I offer you knowledge for knowledge.” I repeat the words I know to be his.

God, his eye. That bulbous, all-knowing eye. He awaits for me to continue and I’m terrified I won’t choose the right words.

“Like you said, there’s another dimension I know. I’ll give you all the information I have of it.”

“Hmmmmm, you have caught my interest, mortal. Not even my champion can provide me with such information. Not even other daedric princes, not even the gods of this world. And since I’m sure you know you cannot hide anything from me here, what do you ask in exchange? The power to bend the world to your own will? The knowledge to replace the Dragonborn? Name it. I’m feeling particularly generous.”

“I wish to master Conjuration magic.” Does this contract mean I’ll lose my soul? NO. The deal’s only knowledge for knowledge, it shouldn’t be. He agreed to those terms, and as long as I’m specific I should be safe. My nails dig into my palms. “Or at least as much as I can learn without losing my mind or anything like that. As much as I do envy him, I… I want to help the Dragonborn fulfill his destiny.” I nod, as much as it pains me to say it. “And if it’s not too much to ask… can you let him, um… go? He… well, he’s the Dragonborn.”

_And the best friend of my best friend, _I add in my mind. I can’t just leave him behind. I can’t replace him and throw him under the bus. I can’t do that to Drerzer, even if he deserves the natural consequences of his own actions. And I can’t certainly do that to Neydan.

“So you’ll not lie to me, but will continue to lie to yourself about your true desire for power and knowledge… Disappointing. What a waste asking for such simple, mundane reward. Or does your control of your true ambitions make you wiser? Or is it mere cowardice and denial? In any case, you and this other mortal promise to be entertaining enough. Very well, mortal. I shall release this servant of mine and settle my debt with him later. I shall take the knowledge from you and you shall receive what you asked for... with a little extra gift for your initiative and cooperation.”

* * *

“Calineth?”

I blink, squinting to make out what takes me several seconds to recognize as Drerzer’s face. Dizzy, I glance down, only to find I’m in a bedroll, wrapped up in wolf pelts.

I close my eyes again. Honestly, taking the little history we have together into consideration, I expect Drerzer to be mad at me. To find reasons to be furious and blame me that things didn’t go according to his plan, or… whatever. Although it’s me who should be mad at him. But I’m feeling too tired for that. Let the yelling begin…

Instead, I hear him sigh in relief, before he says, “You’re awake.”

One would almost think he’s glad. Almost. I open my eyes, only to find him holding a red vial in front of my face. A potion. The sky is dark, and I’m relieved to see so many stars instead of a nauseous green void.

I weakly grasp the vial and chug the whole thing down.

Drerzer scoffs. “Don’t do that again.”

_I knew it._ I calmly close my eyes, mentally showing him my middle finger. My voice betrays me. “I went to save you, idiot. You know, you endangered **_our_** world, you know? I should be the one that-“

“Jeez, I meant going into a comma.” He snatches the empty vial from my hands and I hold back a timid _Oh_. Not that I’m less angry, anyway. He shows me another vial and I shake my head.

“Give me your hand. Don’t sit too quickly.”

With his help I sit down, feeling my head spinning slightly. Ah, look, such a pretty moon. I stare at it for a while, my senses slowly coming back to me, before it hits me. “Where’s Neydan?“

Drerzer avoids my gaze and hands me a folded note. My heart skips a beat.

Before I open it, he says one word to answer my question. “Neloth.”

My blood turns to ice, as my fingers extend the paper quickly. The note is addressed to Drerzer. He’s threatening to hurt Neydan if he doesn’t turn himself in and return the stupid book. Of course he’d track us down, I knew it.

“Stay here. I’ll hire mercenaries and I’ll get him. He’ll be fine.”

“No.” I crumble the note and toss it to the ground. “You and Neydan are listening to me now. I’m done with both of your bullshit.” I stand up, a little wobbly, doing my best not to show it. “Get real, you can’t even be seen around here.”

“Neloth’s got enemies too. There should be no problem if we use that _and_ the right amount of coin.”

“He’s my best friend. I’m going.” I chug another potion down, putting on my cloak. “We don’t even have the stupid book anymore. What was all of it for? Huh? Neydan may trust you, but I don’t, Drerzer. And after all of this, I don’t think I ever will.”

“Good. You shouldn’t.” He says menacingly, before turning his back on me. Instinctively, I ready my body for a fight. Or more like flight.

His shoulders relax. “We leave in ten.”

* * *

What normally would have been a long argument, lasts for 5 seconds. We decide against hiring mercenaries, once I show Drerzer I can summon THREE dremora lords. If I remember the game correctly, I should be able to summon just two. This must be the extra gift Hermaeus Mora was talking about.

I get super tired at first, as I’m not used to this huge pool magicka I now have access to. In retrospective, maybe I should have asked Mora to help me master Destruction magic instead.

However, I chose Conjuration because the truth is I hate fighting. It’s way too stressful and my body doesn’t tolerate pain. I’m way too weak.

And maybe, just maybe, because I might feel super powerful having servants of my own…

Derzer keeps eyeing the dremoras, as we make our way to Tel Mithryn. His face is so unexpressive, yet you can _feel_ how uncomfortable he is from miles away. Even his tone when addressing me changes.

“Here we are.” He says solemnly, staring at Neloth’s tower. “Your demons and I will fight Neloth. I’m sure he’s tried to get Neydan to spill the beans about me, but he’d never dare to mention _you_, so chances are Neloth doesn’t know you exist. He won’t be expecting you, so you’re our advantage. Go into the tower and free Neydan. Try not to get killed.”

_Encouraging._ My brow furrows. “But what do you mean _I_ should go into the tower? I thought the note said he’d be waiting for you there. How are you going to fight him if you don’t come in too?”

“I’d be dead in less than five minutes if I did. I’ll lure him out.” He shakes his head. “It’s his territory. Too many enchantments and traps, he’ll be ready and he’ll have all the advantage.”

I know for a fact Neloth’s not a bad person. What happened between them for things to be like this? “Fine.” I caress my arms. It’s colder now. “I’ll try an invisibility spell but I can’t hold it as long as Neydan can.”

“Make the demons destroy the door of that house. Neloth will come out in defense.”

I nod, shooting one last look at Neloth’s tower, hoping Neydan’s okay and this nightmare will finally be over.

“Um, Dremoras?”

The three of them stand before me. I used to think of them as horrifying but having them serve me, makes them… kind of amazing, actually.

Drerzer rolls his eyes. “Wipe that grin off your face, and be done with it already.”

After I instruct the dremoras to destroy the door and objects, protect Drerzer and definitely NOT kill anyone, they run quickly, shouting something about smelling weakness. Drerzer and I exchange one last glance, before he goes after them.

I hide in the dark, behind Neloth’s tower.

And I find Drerzer was right.

The poor Dunmer screams make Neloth come out immediately from his tower.

I make a run for it, holding the invisibility spell for as long as I can. How I wish I could live in a place like this, as I cross the round doors of the enormous fungus. This is something out of Lord of the Rings.

I let the magic carry me to the top, my skin tingling and the adrenaline rush breaking my spell in the process.

Just in time for whoever is waiting for me, to slam me against the wall and threaten me with a dagger to my neck.

I stay as still as I can, pressing my eyes shut.

“Cal?”

My gaze widens. “Neydan?”

He steps back in horror, letting out a shaky breath, as he runs his hands through his hair. “Don’t scare me like that, you heard me?”

I can’t shut my mouth. “Oh, excuse me, _I’m_ the one who scared _you_? Seriously?”

He ignores my words, as he checks me up. “I forgive you. Let’s go before he comes back.”

“Please, we have to hurry!”

Another voice speaks, and terror overwhelms me when I recognize the young Dunmer as Neloth’s apprentice.

“Relax, he’s with us. I convinced him to ditch the wizard and join us.” Neydan explains like it’s the funniest thing in the world. Like this is all a big highschool prank on Neloth.

How his speech skill is so high, is truly beyond me.

I can barely register when he pulls me off the edge and magic floats us down to the door. Luckily for us, these two mages can cast invisibility spells way longer than I can.

Neydan doesn’t let go of my hand and that reassures me when I lose sight of him and the other guy, as they both activate the spells. When we come out, there’s no sign of Drerzer. Only two dremoras remain, against Neloth.

Oh boy, he’s pissed.

I hear Neydan’s steps as he sprints full speed, the sound of his feet muffled by the dremoras’ taunts and war cries. He pulls my hand, making me stumble and I run quicker to get as far from here as possible.

Funnily enough, we find Drerzer on the same spot we did last time. Neydan dispels the invisibility spell.

Drerzer’s startled for a second. “Always taking your sweet time, aren’t you?”

* * *

We set camp somewhere else, trusting the apprentice’s ideas. His name’s Talvas. I thought Drerzer was going to resist the idea in some way, but as he already played the game, he actually trusts him. They introduced to each other, so I assume Talvas wasn’t around yet when the events between Neloth and Drerzer happened.

Apparently Neydan was kindly taken as a VIP hostage. No torture, no questions. He was offered to sell Drerzer out, just once, but since he refused, they simply left him alone. This only reinforces my idea that Neloth’s not evil. But it’s so suspicious, because Talvas has only heard rumors about Neloth’s rivalry with Drerzer, but nothing coming from Neloth himself. Every time he’s tried to ask, the old man refuses to discuss the subject.

And of course, Neydan and Drerzer are very quiet while we speak to Talvas about this.

I tell Neydan that I’ll fill him in tomorrow about what went on while he was taken hostage. He may not have gone under torture or anything like that, but I know my friend. He’s exhausted.

It takes very little time for him and Talvas to drift off.

Meanwhile, Drerzer and I stare intently at the fire, not crossing any words between us. We all agreed it’s best if two people keep watch.

I regret lifting my gaze, realizing Derzer’s devastatingly handsome features.

But that’s not what motivates my next words. “Sorry.”

“Hm?”

I shrug, focusing more on the fire and absently playing with my hair. “Sorry that I… yelled at you. Before.”

He doesn’t reply right away, and I ignore his intense gaze on me. Finally he speaks, barely audible, going back to sharpening his sword. “I deserved it.”

Even though I absolutely agree with that, I have the strange urge to comfort him. Silence comes out of me instead.

After a few minutes in terribly awkward silence, except for Neydan’s snores, I stand up, stepping away from the fire, intending to grab one of the sweetrolls Talvas brought in a bag for all of us, when Drerzer follows my lead.

Judging by the way he takes a step closer to me, suddenly I’m scared he might be violent. I flinch, in vain apparently, as all I see is regret in his gaze while he stays still. A quick flash of hurt crosses his features at my reaction. It was barely perceptible but I know what I saw. Neither of us looks away.

“Why did you sell out our world to Herma Mora?” He asks in a low voice.

“Excuse me?” My jaw drops. “You were awake the whole time?”

The memories of me touching his face, and burying my face in his chest run in my mind… I’m suddenly glad it’s dark and he can’t see my skin nor my expression in detail.

“You can’t lie to Herma Mora in Apocrypha. You couldn’t have fooled him Neydan-style. But I don’t understand. You could have obtained the power replace me, become Mora’s champion and save Neydan yourself. But you didn’t. It doesn’t add up, why save me and endanger everyone else in the real world? Be honest.” He repeats. However, there’s no judgement in his voice. No reproach. No blaming.

“I didn’t.” I cross my arms.

“He let me go in exchange of your information. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t done it. What other ‘dimension’ do you know, then?”

“Well…” I place a strand of hair behind my ear, “ever since I got here I developed a theory. I was taking a risk, because I didn’t know for sure then, but now I do. If a fictional world like Skyrim is real…. I figured any other fictional world could be too. Like this world, it simply must a different… dimension. And that’s exactly what I promised him. So I focused on sharing with him every piece of lore I knew of, let’s say, uh… Dungeons and Dragons?”

It takes several seconds for the meaning of my words, to fully dawn on him. He holds his breath until I can see him repressing a laugh. He hides his gorgeous lips and I can tell there’s so much he wants to say, his mind racing, as he keeps contemplating on my words, shaking his head in irony. Instead, he looks me dead in the eye, licking his lips before condensing everything in a single word. “Nerd.”

I lift my chin, proudly, my tone full of accusation. “It takes one to know one.”

And for the first time, he laughs. For real. No humorless, bitter scoffs, nor a predatory, intimidating smirk.

A pure, contagious, innocent, good laugh.

And it’s then I realize I hadn’t seen any of the real Drerzer up until that brief moment. You don’t know a person until you hear them LAUGH as sincerely as this.

And I hadn’t realized how good judge of character Neydan is, always seeing behind masks, beyond people’s judgements.

Maybe if I became a little more like him, I’d have more little moments like these in my life.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I love the self-insert thingy, it makes writing so much fun. The whole getting dragged into a new world is very similar to my Undertale fic (Healingtale), but this one is radically different.


End file.
